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The Extra Cargo

Every year the trains ran later into the evening as last-minute shipments were trying to get in before Christmas.  The holiday would begin soon and everything had to be unloaded despite the cold that penetrated thick coats and warm gloves of the Jugglers, the men who unloaded the cargo.  

 There was too much cargo for professional Jugglers to handle and so every year the offices would hire scabs.  Foster Badham, the unfortunate supervisor of this motley crew, despised working with the untrained youths and miscreant applicants.  Scabs often led to broken cargo and theft, despite this they were a necessary burden or else the toffs would never get their Christmas.

 Tonight had been quick and relatively quiet as the Jugglers and scabs unloaded the final shipment of the evening.  They all felt the cold in their tired bones that made them yearn for the warmth of a fire and something hot to drink.  The night was going smoothly until some urchins, who attempted to be inconspicuous, approached the last cart without the Jugglers to supervise them.

Foster reluctantly made his way over, his boots crunching the snow beneath him.  The supervisor realized the car the boys wanted to open was not on his manifest during this short journey.  It was nothing uncommon this close to Christmas, but it meant extra work for everyone involved.  Foster suspected that the urchins would grab one or two things by the time he arrived, to his surprise the four boys were still struggling with the door.  When the youngest boy coughed, in a loud and deliberate manner, the lads hid behind the oldest of the lot.  

“What seems to be the trouble?”  Foster asked the leader gruffly, not wanting to betray his suspicions and send the children running.  After all, he still needed their help tonight.

“Durs stuck, sir.”  Ebens, the leader of the group replied.  He met Fosters gaze calmly; Foster thought of him as a trouble-making vagabond, a pimply lad just entering his teen years. “We caint get it open.”

Foster took a moment to reach out and pull at the wet latch, water seeping through his gloves.  He ignored the chill spreading up his right hand and failed several attempts to open the door.  The railcar had no interior lock so it could not be jammed.  

Foster eventually noted that the chain and lock were missing.  He looked at the children, pondering which of them had the lock.  He ordered them to follow him to the other side but again found no lock, no chain, and a door just as obstinate as before.

“Maybe the durs froze, eh sir?”  Ebens asked quietly.

Foster flexed his fingers in his glove a few times in an attempt to warm them.  It was getting far too cold to continue, “I suppose.  You had better head back and join the Jugglers.”

The boys darted off and Foster made his lonely trek back to his warm office.  He was content to learn later that the Jugglers had also failed to open the door.  With peace of mind he left the yard quiet and deserted, making his way home.  However, Ebens and the urchins planned to return to the train yard that evening.

They waited until after midnight before setting out with a range of tools including a small shovel to destroy their footprints in the snow.  The night was colder now and most of their coats and gloves were too thin and hole-ridden to keep them warm.  The falling temperature would not deter the urchins from the allure of an unknown cargo.  A prize that could be anything, perhaps even a Christmas Banquet.

The urchins approached carefully to avoid detection as they slipped into the yard and to the mysterious railcar.  The hinges were difficult to remove, their frozen hands protested the rough activity, but the bolt cutters made the work quick. After a balancing act involving Ebens and a nearby stepladder the last of the hinges fell to the snow; the doors buckling open.

The boys lit their torches with anticipation to illuminate the cargo but frowned in disappointment by the meager bounty.  Long white ropes dangled haphazardly from the ceiling and the walls seemed to be covered in strange insulation.  To the left lay heavy looking furniture shrouded in drapes and to the right was what would be their reward:  six or seven packages stacked atop a few suitcases.

It was not much for their efforts but suitcases meant new clothes that didn’t have holes in them.  The boys made their way in with caution, Ebens entering first to raise his lantern for a better look, causing the shadows to dance along the covered walls.  

The shorter boys were already sneaking under the ropes when Ebens saw something that made his blood run as cold as the frozen snow outside.  Was something crawling along the walls or were the shadows playing with his imagination?

This is not our destination.”  Ebens turned around, drawing his dagger with his free hand and looking for the source of that disturbing voice.  There in the tarp covered chairs, a short figure moved that he hadn’t noticed before.   The figure made no movement to counter Ebens’s, continuing to sit underneath the ropes resting along his frame.  This is too north for us.  It is so cold here.  The south promised warmth.  Can you tell us where we are?

The unworldly voice was like ice on Ebens’s spine, he could not see the figure moving its jaw as it spoke. Behind him the boys began to cry for help, they had gotten stuck in the ropes while trying to escape from the nightmarish voice.    “Dis is…dis is Babbage!” Ebens responded, taking one step back while trying to muster his courage.  “I’ve gotta knife!”

The figure remained still as it giggled wickedly, like he had just offered to play a fun game, First you would rob us, and now you would offer us harm.  Such violent and dishonest young things.”  

Ebens dared a glance towards the boys and was dismayed to find more of his friends had become trapped in the tangled rope while trying to help the others.  “What are yer doing!?”

“It’s sticky!”  One of the boys cried out.  He flailed while attempting to tear himself free of the gastly entanglement, each tug wrapping him tighter.  “It’s making my arm numb!”  

Ebens looked back towards the figure and noticed that it still hadn’t moved yet.  He tried to make his towards the others but found his left foot stuck to the floor.  He grunted as he tried to free his boot from the same strange insulation covering the walls.  

Stuck dears?”  The figure laughed as it rose slowly, deliberately drawing out their suffering.  Ebens finally seized an opportunity, he shifted his weapon and threw the knife at the base of the creatures back.  He had expected a satisfying gurgle or choke of surprise, but no sound came from the otherworldly beast.   It dangled and then fell to a rest, hanging on the ropes that had previously held it up.

Ebens realized far too late that the figure hadn’t been the one talking as the demonic giggle filled the railcar once more.  Something was with them, something crawling on the insulated walls, the ceiling, and the ropes.  He could feel them making their way up his leg while his friends screamed.

It is so cold in this ‘Babbage’.”  The speaker turned the head of the marionette it had been using to distract them.  A mummified child covered in webs dangled as spiders made their way over his flesh, using it as a shelter from the freezing weather.  “We’re going to need your precious warmth, little ones.

Ebens quickly pulled at his laces and abandoned his boot along with his friends to their undeserved fates.  He ignored the spiders making their way up his leg, and the agony from his unprotected foot while  trudging through the shin deep snow. The figure giggled wickedly behind him, descending from the ceiling.  Something pulled on Ebens’s leg suddenly and he fell face first into the ice-cold snow.  Ebens tried to crawl away while six hairy legs pulled him back into the car.

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9 Comments

  1. Loki Gearhead Loki Gearhead December 24, 2015

    I can’t wait to see where this goes!!! Epic Writing, Epic Talent!!!

  2. River Falcon River Falcon December 24, 2015

    You have a lovely eloquent writing style. This is a most engaging story.

  3. Johnny Dawkins Johnny Dawkins December 24, 2015

    Ho-lee frig! That right near freaked me out.

    • Garnet Psaltery Garnet Psaltery December 24, 2015

      Itsy – see what you’ve done *faints in sympathy*.

  4. Bookworm Hienrichs Bookworm Hienrichs December 27, 2015

    “Good Lord!”

    Bookworm couldn’t help the exclaimation.  It wasn’t every Christmas Eve that she was called out to view a mummified body.  Not even in New Babbage.  She looked around at the scattered crates and packages.

    “From one of the Aquilla stations, Captain,” said the militia member who had fetched her.  “Watchman on his rounds found the door hanging open.”

    Bookworm inspected the door, with its damaged bolt and loosened hinges, and plastered with notices all saying, ‘DO NOT OPEN.’  “This had to have been the work of several.”  She held her lantern up, scanning the ground, but there were too many tracks to make much sense… as well as many round pits in the snowcover.  She stooped, peering closer, but couldn’t understand what had made those pits.  “So where did the others go?”

    She finally straightened up, looking at the other four militia members who had gathered there.  “You two, canvass the immediate area.  Try to find some better tracks, if you can.  You others, take the body to the hospital.”  She watched as they rolled it onto a board, covering it with a spare tarp.  “That is certainly going to take some investigation.”

    • Avariel Falcon Avariel Falcon December 27, 2015

      This just keeps getting better and better! *shakes head*

  5. Tepic Harlequin Tepic Harlequin December 27, 2015

    It was mid morning before Tepic could persuade the rail gang’s look out to take him to the rail car, the lad had been frightened out of his wits. He had heard the cries of the boys in the truck, and seen Ebens leap out and take a few steps in the snow before he was grabbed by a shadowy something and dragged back through the wrecked doors. Tepic had found him cowering under the bunks in Loki’s hideout and had spent the night talking him out. They were now at the entrance to the rail yard, and the lad would go no further, though he did point out the terrifying van, made slightly less worrisome by the figure of Miss Heinrichs in her Militia uniform stepping down from the doorway.

    Tepic waited until she had gone, then approached the rail car from the far side, avoiding the already bored guard. He pulled himself into the van and looked around, taking in the enormous webs covering one end and the large number of bones scattered around. The only encouraging thing was they looked to be dry and old, not the remains of the urchin gang.

    There were no other clues as to what had happened, no blood, no remains, nothing, so Tepic swung out the door and under the car, slipping quietly along the rail lines. This was going to take some thinking about……

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